A Fine Line Between Love and Obsession
by CrowNoYami
Summary: It had been years since that horrible day and still he was playing cat and mouse with the one who killed his family... but who was the cat and who was the mouse was hard to tell sometimes. Patrick/Red John


**The Fine Line Between Hate and Obsession**

Jane looked outside the window, his breath fogging up the glass as he breathed in and out in the late night. His eyes closed slightly while he slowly drifted off to sleep, no it wasn't his cot or the comfortable couch that he had been using for the past few years but it was all he believed that he deserved. Another woman had come onto him tonight while he was working, getting information from a local bar and once again he had been reminded of how long it had been since he last had sex,

It had been many years now since the loss of his wife and daughter, and he was still no closer to catching Red John than when he first started the hunt after their death. Still he kept his life going, only for the revenge that seemed to escape him after every turn. What was worse what the knowing of how close the monster was to him, he was no fool he knew when he was watched and when someone was looking at him, he had always known.

It had taken a few months after he had left the asylum that he knew that he was being watched, that there was someone always following him. After first he thought that it was some reporter wanting another interview, or someone writing another book of killers and wanted to know his take on Red John who was still at large and violating more young woman. But now, now knew who it was that would risk following him, would risk the expose should he ever miss up and never fail.

The gaze had changed as well, at first it was a feeling of being stalked, of someone wanting him to fail and die. But now, now it was more, it was primal in its need and if he should ever meet gazes he knew that he would be lost. What had started out as a game had done more to the both of them then either of them realized it would. What had started out as fascination had turned into the worst kind of obsession.

Breathing against the window, Jane now had his eyes closed, he could feel it now the gaze against him. The way that it would take in his form, the way that it would leave a burning path as if it was a lover. He knew that he was attractive, his wife bless her soul had always wondered if he was with someone else with the attention he got on and off the air, but he never cheated on her and he knew that even in death he never would be with another woman.

Kristina Fry had been an experiment and he was almost sad to say that it was not to see if he could be with someone else, if he could love someone else. It was an experiment to see how important he was to Red John, Sam Bosco had been killed because they were being kept apart he could understand that…. But Kristina was killed emotionally because she was in the way of his attentions.

Still the gaze was upon his body as he stood against the window, what was worse then the fact that the one who killed his family was watching him was the he… Patrick Jane… was getting enjoyment from, it. He had always been the kind of man to try and cross the line between what he could and couldn't do, always living on the edge and he knew that he was slowly losing at this'd game.

Eventually one or the other would break, and they would have to give in to their desire, no matter what the cost. Red John would not be the one to lose in a matter of the mind, he would sit back and wait… eventually they both knew that Patrick would come to him, would beg him to be taken and he would, slowly, painfully he would break his most prized object only to bring him back to break him again.

His hand made its way to the window and Patrick found himself holding his hand out to his enemy, for once wishing for something more and knowing that it was wrong. As his left hand pressed against the window his right didn't hesitate to reach towards his pants. Before even touching himself he was hard, his dick pulsing in anticipation, the only time he could get aroused these days was when he was being watched by _him_.

Somewhere in his mind he knew that he was going to hell for this, that his wife would have disapproved and would have left him long ago if she had known. Luckily for him at least he did not believe in Heaven he never did, not even when he was little and working at the carnival you couldn't in that place. But now, now he didn't believe because he didn't want to, surely there would not be a figure so crule that it would make this happen to someone, to make them desire the one that is their own personal Devil.

Still his hand started to rub against his crotch, stroking himself through the fabric as he let out a small moan his forehead pressed firmly against the window. The gaze was still on him, it always was these days and he could feel it getting close to him, waiting for him to give in, to because their owners personal slave. Slowly he opened his pants with the one hand as he slipped his hand inside the pants, he had been going commando today.

The feeling of his hand against his overheated flesh made him moan out and almost open his eyes, but he knew the game would be done if he did. As his hand moved against himself and he brought himself closer and closer to competition he let his moans come out and puff up against the glass that was now the only cool thing against his body. The closer he became the most lost he felt, he was getting off while his enemy watched him, while the killer of his family watched him and it only made him that much hotter.

"Please" He whispered against the glass, and he could almost see the smirk on _his_ face, could almost hear his chuckle as he knew what he said. Soon after he came, his cock still inside his pants while his hand became coated in his own sperm. Panting against the glass Patrick brought his hand out now sticky and white, there was sweat against the window. Giving a shivering sigh, he could still feel _his_ eyes against him, judging him… they both know that it wouldn't be much longer until he cracked until one day he gave up.

Tonight wasn't that night though, instead he would give up a show if the sick bastard was still watching. Lifting his hand, Patrick slowly licked up his own essence from his fingers and smirked slightly he may not be able to see Red John but he knew that the other would enjoy the show. It tasted salty and although he had done many things in his life it was the first time that he willingly licked off his own cum, but he knew that eventually it would be worth it.

Afterwards he shook his head and pulled his forehead back from the window, it wasn't tonight that he would give in, not tonight that he would let the bastard have him… but it would be soon. His only chance at winning this game, was if he and the team got to Red John first, if they made the connections and fit the dots together, then he would win… and he would kill him. If he lost… the he was the one who would be killed over and over again until his body finally gave in and finished the job.

Moving his hand from the window from where it was pressed up against it so to keep a grasp of something. With his pants open and some cum on his hand, Patrick finally lifted his head from the window and opened his eyes again, he saw nothing. There was nobody visible in the night except his own reflection in the window. Sighing once against he turned from the window and walked into the house, he needed a shower, his second for the day.

With the shower pouring the hot water down his body he scrubbed and rinsed until he was red and raw from trying to rid himself of the self-hate. The gaze was off of him now, even hardened criminals needed to sleep and he suspected that it wouldn't be back until a little while latter probably in about a week after the show waiting to take him. The only time he could truly find someone, some kind of lead was then the eyes weren't on him, weren't watching his every move… and he knew that he had to work alone.

It wouldn't be the first time that Red John had someone in the CBI working for him, and he wouldn't be surprised to find out if someone from his own team was one of his followers. Still he kept most of the information, the files and the clues that he could find away, nobody but he knew the hints that he was able to pick up here and there, was able to get from the mass amount of blood and pain.

Some day perhaps if he could hold out just a bit longer he would be able to use them, to fix what had been done and to get Red John. Putting on his pajamas and laying down in his cot underneath his personal label of the red blood smiley face, Patrick wondered if he would be able to hold out until he could get anything else. It was hard to know at this point, one the one hand he wanted revenge more then anything… but on the other he was getting tired with every trick he had to pull he felt like he had ages years off of his life… and perhaps he had.

'_Just a while longer and it will end… it can all end…'_


End file.
